The Study of Change
by heisenbergette
Summary: Sort of a "What If" - What if Walter had seen Jesse as a person deserving of his empathy after the early events of Season 3, and had a little more concern for his young business partner?
1. Chapter 1

Rating: Mature  
Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence  
Category: Gen, M/M  
Fandom: Breaking Bad  
Relationship: Walter White/Jesse Pinkman  
Character: Walter White, Jesse Pinkman

* * *

_The Study of Change_

by heisenbergette

Notes

I don't own anything "Breaking Bad", except my squishy thoughts. And lately, those too also belong to BrBa. I haven't written a lot of BrBa fiction; just a couple of one-shots that added a little more emotion to a couple of scenes. This one picks up right after Walter and Jesse return to Walt's apartment in Season 3, Episode 1 "No Mas". I have freely lifted dialogue straight from some episodes, so if you see something familiar, that's why. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

Chapter 1

"You either run from things or you face them, Mr. White."

Walter looked at Jesse, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Now what exactly does that mean?" From the moment the younger man had gotten into Walter's car at the clinic, he hadn't had a lot to say.

"I learned it in rehab," Jesse replied expressionlessly. "It's all about accepting who you really are." He swallowed as he stared into space over Walter's right shoulder. "I accept who I am now."

Walter felt his frown deepen. "And… just who are you?"

"I'm the bad guy."

Walter paused a moment in disbelief, then shook his head. "You're not the bad guy, Jesse." The younger man continued to stare ahead, expressionless. Walter leaned forward and placed his hand on Jesse's leg. "Hey, I mean it."

Jesse finally met his eyes, but his face didn't change. Walter gave his knee a gentle squeeze before letting go and sitting back again. "Jesse, I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm worried about what's going to happen to you if you convince yourself that you're to blame for all of this."

"Jane's dead, isn't she? So are 167 people on those two planes, right? So I figure yeah, I probably deserve some of the blame." He held Walter's gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

Walter scrubbed a hand over his mustache and goatee. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "You _aren't_. I understand that you probably don't want to talk about this now. Or, or even if we did talk about this, I wouldn't be able to change your mind." He sighed. "If you need me, Jesse, I'll be here. I owe it you to be here for you, and I _want_ to help you, when you're ready to let me." Jesse continued to sit silently. Walter passed a hand over his face again, and gave another sigh before standing up. "Lunch?"

Several more attempts to initiate conversation fell flat as Jesse pushed his food around his plate.

"If you don't care for it, I can make you something else," Walter offered, desperate to see a little more animation from the younger man. "Grilled cheese isn't terribly exciting, but I haven't really picked up more than the essentials."

Jesse shook his head. "No thanks, Mr. White. Just not really that hungry." He dropped his hands to his lap. "I can, uh, do dishes if you want or something."

"If you like," Walter replied absently as he pulled his buzzing cellphone from his pocket. He glanced at it, then pushed back his chair and stood up. "I have a, ah, meeting that I need to get to."

He stopped at the door, swiveling to eye the younger man. "I'll be back soon. This shouldn't take very long. But before I go, Jesse, can you make me a promise?"

Blank eyes turned to face Walter. "I guess it depends on the promise."

It sounded near enough to Jesse's usual attitude that Walter felt heartened. "Can you promise to be here when I get back?" Jesse didn't respond immediately. "Frankly, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't kind of worried about you right now."

Jesse stared at him for a moment. Eventually, he nodded. "Yeah. Um, yeah, Mr. White, I mean, I'll be here."

Walter exhaled explosively with relief, and gave the younger man a tense smile. "Great. Terrific. I will… I will see you when I get back."

Jesse nodded, but didn't say anything else.

* * *

After Walter drove away, Jesse robotically emptied the plates and put them into the dishwasher. When he finished, he crossed the room to his temporary bed and climbed beneath the blankets, pulling them tightly around himself and slipping his cellphone out of his pocket. He hit "Send" to redial the last number called.

_"__Hey, if you're trying to sell me something, I got four little words for you: 'Do Not Call List'. However, if you're cool, leave it at the beep."_

Over and over again, he hit the buttons to replay Jane's voicemail message as grief overtook him. He sobbed into the pillows until his chest ached and his eyes ran dry, and then he finally fell asleep.

* * *

"Is the food to your satisfaction?"

Walter glanced up. With a polite smile, he replied, "Very much, Mr. Fring, thank you."

"Good to see you again," Gus commented, holding out his hand to Walter. "May I?" Walter returned the handshake and gestured at the open seat in his booth.

The other man slid smoothly onto the bench, and rested his forearms on the table, hands folded neatly together. "I have an offer that I think will interest you."

"I'm, ah, not actually here to…" Walter paused and then sighed. "I am here because… I owe you the courtesy, and the respect… to, uh, tell you this personally." He paused again, and lowered his voice slightly. "I'm done. I'm done with, ah… cooking."

Gus showed no reaction beyond waiting patiently and dispassionately for Walter to continue.

"Um, it has nothing to do with you. I… find you extraordinarily professional, and I can appreciate the way that you do business. I'm making a change to my life, is what this is. I'm at something of a crossroads, and it's brought me to a realization." He paused again, considering his next words. "I'm not a criminal. No offense to people who are, but…" he said, shaking his head for emphasis, "this is not me."

Gus nodded, still wearing his polite managerial smile. "I would like you to hear my offer, notwithstanding."

Walter shook his head. "It won't change my mind, I'm sorry."

"Three million dollars for three months of your time."

Walter nearly gasped in shock, blinking hard and staring at Gus.

"Three months, and then you're out."

"Three _million_," Walter repeated. Gus nodded.

"May I consider this a 'yes'?"

Walter sat silently a few moments, considering. "May I have a little time to discuss this with my partner?"

Gus' expression shifted slightly. "I was under the impression that your partnership had been dissolved."

"He has recently suffered a personal loss, but he's undergone treatment for a… the condition you mentioned during our first meeting. He's doing much better right now," Walter dissembled.

"I am very pleased to hear it. Are you certain that he would be an asset to you, if you were to accept this opportunity?"

Walter nodded. "Absolutely. Jesse is my partner. He's… he's had his issues, I will admit. But I can honestly say that I wouldn't be able to perform without him. There's a… shorthand that exists between us. An understanding, born from experience. We would be most effective together."

Gus nodded again. "As you say. I can give you twenty-four hours to discuss this with your partner, but I will require an answer by this same time tomorrow."

"Fantastic. How shall I…"

"You can leave that up to me," Gus replied, standing as smoothly as he had sit, extending his hand again, which Walter clasped and shook. "Enjoy your meal, Mr. White."

Walter watched the other man return to his work, without a backward glance. _It's as if the meeting never happened_, Walter thought. _Three million dollars, and it's like it never even happened._

* * *

"Okay, okay," Walter muttered to himself as he juggled shopping bags out of the way enough to close his trunk hatch. "Whoops… There we go." With a slam, he dropped the lid, and shifted the bags to carry more comfortably to the apartment.

The door was locked, and he jostled the bags again so he could toggle his key in the lock. The door swung open, and he glanced around the darkened apartment. In what dim light came through the curtains, he saw a huddled form on the couch. With relief, Walter realize that Jesse was apparently only napping. _Well, at least he was true to his word,_ Walter mused, shutting the door as quietly as possible before padding across to put the groceries away.

He heard Jesse stir behind him, and a moment later the younger man was at his elbow. "Do you, uh, want some help with that stuff?" Jesse asked, gesturing to the bags on the counter.

"Sure," Walter replied, a little surprised. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

Jesse shook his head. "Nah, man. I wasn't really sleeping."

Walter spared a glance at the young man. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face was pale. Walter suppressed a sigh. "Hey, I wanted to ask you what your plans are," he said, trying to draw Jesse out. "For the future, I mean. And, ah, if I haven't said it… I probably haven't said it, but I meant to, congratulations for making it through the… the program." Realizing he was rambling, he clarified, "I'm proud of you, Jesse. Really."

The younger man flashed a ghost of a smile. "Thanks," he replied quietly. "Uh… plans. Yeah, I guess you probably want me out of here." He glanced around. "Not exactly as spacious as you're used to, I guess, especially with another person around."

"Oh, no, that's not it at all," Walter broke in.

"No, man, I get it. I appreciate you letting me crash here… I couldn't go back to the…" Jesse shuddered unconsciously. "I'll make some arrangements and be out of here tomorrow."

"No, no," Walter said firmly. "Honestly; you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to." He waggled his fingers a little. "Or at least as long as _I_ need to be here," he amended. "_You_," he said pointedly, "are not a problem here. Got it?" Jesse shrugged noncommittally. Walter grabbed his shoulders gently and gave him a little shake. "Seriously. Okay?" He held on until Jesse finally nodded. "Good. Okay, good."

Walter turned back to putting away groceries. "What I meant is… I have no idea how to phrase this delicately, Jesse, so I'll just come out and ask. Do you have any interest in continuing to cook?" He glanced over again, gauging the younger man's reaction. "I don't want to cause you to backslide, or…" he trailed off uncertainly.

To his surprise, Jesse was nodding emphatically. "Absolutely, Mr. White. It's the only thing I'm good at."

"No, no!" Walter said again, shaking his head. "Jesse…" he said haltingly, "look, I don't want to push you to talk to me. I told you that earlier. But _please_ realize that I personally find you at fault for _nothing_," he said forcefully. "Nothing," Walter repeated, his eyes boring into Jesse's. "Son, I _need_ you to understand this. Something terrible and tragic happened, yes. But it has _happened._ It is over. You will move on from this."

After a beat, Jesse nodded again. "Yeah. I guess I will."

Walter let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "So, um, if you are amenable to working together again… we have an offer. From our previous benefactor."

Jesse's eyes widened into the first real expression Walter had seen since picking him up. "What's the offer?"

"We give them three months of our time and expertise, and we receive three million in exchange." Jesse's eyes nearly bugged out.

"Three m-mi…"

"Three million dollars," Walter confirmed.

Jesse whistled in disbelief. "Holy shit, man." He sounded almost enough like his former self that Walter grinned. "That's… that's a lot of money."

Walter nodded. "Yes it is. Gus would like for us to let him know by tomorrow afternoon if we're interested. I suppose it's fair to say that you're on board?"

"Uh, hell yeah, Mr. White," Jesse replied. "Let's do it. We can pull the RV out of storage and get moving again." Jesse was nearly animated now, to Walter's pleasant surprise. "Do we need to get pseudo or are we looking to score more methylamine?"

"For that much money, he's going to want more than a few pounds of product per week. And since we first sold him the blue batch, I would imagine he wants more of the same." Jesse nodded, considering.

"Yeah…" He chewed on a ragged fingernail for a minute. "Maybe he has something else in mind? I mean, why give us a timeline, yo? Like, teaching the cook to someone else?"

Walter considered the possibility. "Maybe. All I know for certain is that with one and a half million each, we can spend quite a while figuring out what we want to do next."

Jesse smiled, the expression painfully endearing on his wan face. "Hell yeah, Mr. White."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next afternoon, Walter's cellphone buzzed as they were cleaning up after lunch. Jesse waved him away from the sink, and he pulled out the phone to see a new message reading simply "_?"_ .

He stared at the phone for a few seconds before holding it out and waggling it at Jesse. "I don't suppose you know how to respond to one of these?" he asked.

Jesse cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know how to send a text?" Walter scowled back at him, but there was no heat in the expression.

"I've never had occasion to, smart ass."

"The younger man held out his hand in a _gimme_ gesture, and Walter obligingly handed the phone over. "This is for the deal?" Walter nodded. "It's a go, right?"

"I'm in if you are."

"No worries there, man." Jessie quickly typed in a message, holding it up for Walter's approval before he sent it. _We're in_. Off Walter's nod, he hit "Send".

They both breathed out heavily, simply looking at each other for a moment. "Three million dollars," Walter said disbelievingly. Jesse grinned wider, and held up his hand. Walter smacked it with his own palm, and Jesse gave an exuberant yell.

"Yeah!" After bouncing around for a moment, he looked up at Walter. "So… what do we do, like in the meantime, yo? Like until they tell us what to do next?"

The phone buzzed again before Walter could respond. _Pollos 1pm 2morrow._ Walter raised his eyebrows and showed Jesse the screen. "Not much, apparently."

* * *

Later that evening Walter's other phone rang. Jesse glanced across the room from his place on the couch when he heard Walter answer with a surprised "Hello, Skyler." He stood, and moved toward the door as if to leave, but Walter waved him back. Jesse mimed smoking a cigarette, and Walter rolled his eyes and pointed to the door, his features growing dark as he listened intently to his wife.

The younger man slipped his own phone out of his pocket as he shut the door behind him. He walked to the fence surrounding the complex's pool and slid down against it. He hit the "Send" button and redialed Jane's cell number, lighting up a cigarette as he steeled himself to hear her message again. He nearly dropped the phone to the pavement when instead he heard an automated voice stating, "The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. El número que…"

Jesse sat there, holding his burning cigarette, until he felt the heat of the filter igniting between his fingers. He opened his hand and dropped the butt as he leaned his head back against the chain-link fence. His eyes burned, and he closed them to forestall the tears that were about to follow.

Sometime later – it could have been minutes, or it could have been hours - he heard a door slam, and a voice calling out his name. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and stood up. "Mr. White. What's up?"

Walter was agitated, and Jesse frowned in concern. "Skyler saw a lawyer about a divorce," he replied. "I need to try to catch Saul to find out how to stop this. I've been _instructed,_" he spat, "to not contact her, or our _children_ directly." He gave Jesse a critical glance. "Are _you_ okay? You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I… I'm fine. I'll see you later." Jesse motioned toward the apartment.

Walter nodded. "I don't want you to feel like you're a prisoner here, though. If you want to ride with me to his office, he's holding your car there." He pulled something out of his pocket and held it out. Jesse saw that it was a key, glinting in the streetlamp over the parking lot. "I had this made earlier, in case you wanted to be able to leave now and then."

Jesse reached out slowly and took the key, touched enough by the gesture to feel his eyes begin to burn again."That's… thanks, Mr. White." He looked up at the older man. "Um, you wanna go now?"

Walter nodded. "Yeah, the sooner the better." His agitation returned. "I don't know what in the hell is going on, but the sooner I can put a stop to this, the better."

* * *

"Wait a minute; how did you know?"

Saul held up his hands, his body language appeasing. "Just my meticulousness. Don't get bogged down in detail, Walt. The lesson here-"

"Did you _bug_ my _house_?" Walter interrupted. He had been pacing, but now he stopped to stare, incredulous, at the attorney.

"… Yeah. But, you moved out, so it wasn't really your house, now was it? Besides, you basically told me to!" Saul replied nervously, pushing his chair back from his desk slightly to provide himself with an escape route.

Walter's face darkened. "I told you to," he stated, his tone dangerous.

Saul stood up, careful to keep the desk between him and the very angry man on the other side. "You strongly hinted that I should, might be a better way to phrase it. You were worried about your wife, remember? You were concerned she might say something to the police or to the brother-in-law."

Walter shook his head slowly. "No, no, that's not true. When the hell did I say that?" He took a step forward, and Saul's finger twitched in the directory of his intercom button.

"Let's not get lost in the who, whats, and whens." Saul waved his other hand pleadingly. "The point is, we did our due diligence and she didn't talk!" He smiled encouragingly. "She kept quiet; she stood by you, Walt! A real Tammy Wynette-kind of gal. Which, if you ask me, is the ironical silver lining here. I mean, on one hand, sure, she snuck off the reservation to get some dirty damp and deep. But on the other-"

"You're fired! You're done!" Walter roared, charging forward. Saul hit the intercom button and danced away to the side as Walter lunged for him. One of the bodyguards came in the room and hurried to come between the men.

"Good!" Saul retorted. "'Oh, boo-hoo, I won't cook meth anymore!' You're a crybaby! Who needs you?! Hey, I'm unplugging the website, so no more money laundering! How do you like that?" He cut off, shrieking, as Walter grabbed the lapels of his suit and began to shake him.

They tussled for a few minutes until the bodyguard was able to get a good enough grip on Walter to separate the men. Saul ran into the corner, pointing his finger at Walter. "You just bought a $300 suit, psycho!" he shouted shrilly. Walter stood for a moment, regaining his composure, before turning and storming out of the office.

He stepped outside and yanked the door to his Aztek open, slamming it once he climbed inside. He glared balefully at the broken windshield, and slammed his hands into the steering wheel.

"Gahhhh!" he yelled. "Ahhhhhhhhh!" He beat his fists against the dash, the need to hurt something nearly overpowering. When he stopped, he sat there, breathing heavily, his hands aching slightly from the pummeling he just gave the dashboard. With not a little irritation, he realized that he was still experiencing some of the shortness of breath he'd had following his recent surgery. The thought was sobering.

Walter's first instinct was to drive over to the house, but he had enough presence of mind to realize that showing up there – especially in this kind of mood – was only going to endanger the chances of working everything out with Skyler. Resigned to finding no resolution to the problem tonight, he decided to head back to the apartment. There was the exercise room, he reasoned. Maybe it had a punching bag.

* * *

The apartment was dark again when he unlocked the door, with only the parking lot lights faintly illuminating the interior. Walter stepped in quietly before shutting the door behind him. As he slid the deadbolt into place, he heard a choked sound from the sofa.

"Jesse?" Walter asked. The huddled form on the couch sat up, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here," Jesse managed. To the younger man's dismay, he sniffled audibly, which he tried to cover up with a cough. Walter sat down slowly across from him, reaching a hand out and catching his arm. His frustration dampened, and was replaced with concern for the younger man.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked. Jesse met his eyes, and Walter could clearly see in the dim light that he had been crying. "Oh, Jesse," he whispered. There was too much sympathy in his tone for Jesse to handle; he closed his eyes again and leaned back on the sofa as Walter stood and moved to sit next to him.

"I'm okay," Jesse started, willing himself not to cry, but Walter circled him with his arms and drew him over. Jesse couldn't keep up the pretense any longer, and let his head fall to the older man's shoulder. "Shit, man," Jesse murmured, irritated with himself, as he attempted to pull away. Walter held him still, rubbing his hand over Jesse's shoulder.

"It's okay," Walter said quietly. "I've got you. It's okay." That was Jesse's undoing; he dissolved into wrenching sobs. "You're okay," Walter murmured, hugging him close.

* * *

Jesse woke up feeling… _snuggled_. With a start, he opened his eyes and realized that he'd fallen asleep – _cried_ himself to sleep – against Walter's shoulder, and that he was now clinging to the older man. Walter, for his part, was fast asleep - and still embracing Jesse, a situation that the younger man was quick to rectify.

"Shit," Jesse mumbled as he extricated himself. Walter stirred as his arm was moved, and he opened his eyes to see Jesse scramble to his feet. "I am _so_ sorry, Mr. White," Jesse said. "I didn't… fuck. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you, man. Uh, can you… can we just forget that _that_," he gestured vaguely at the couch, "happened, or something? I don't… I don't do cuddling, man."

Walter sat up, stretching his arms out. His spine cracked as he twisted his back to the left, and then to the right. He shook his head, "Jesse, it's fine," he said. "You were upset. I'm certainly not going to begrudge you a little comfort. I'm glad I could at least help you get some rest."

Jesse wouldn't look at him, instead jerking his head toward the bathroom. "I need to like, take a leak," he said weakly.

Walter watched him walk away, then shook his head and stood. He stretched again and glanced over at the clock to confirm that the light coming through the windows meant it was really morning. When Jesse didn't reappear right away, he decided to dress and start some breakfast.

Jesse finally came out of the bathroom just as Walter sat down to eat. Seeing that there was a plate waiting for him, he slunk to the table sheepishly and sat down. "Thanks," he muttered, not looking up.

"It's no problem, Jesse." Walter, loathe to embarrass the younger man, simply sat and ate. Jesse began to relax when it became apparent that Walter was trying to avoid any awkwardness.

"So," Walter began, standing to refill his coffee cup, "I should probably talk to you about Saul."

Something in his tone caused Jesse to look up and frown slightly. "What about Saul?" he asked slowly.

"I, ah, kind of fired him last night," Walter admitted, leaning back against the counter to face his partner. Jesse's eyes grew wide.

"You fired the lawyer." Walter nodded.

"He…" Walter paused, weighing how much to reveal. "He bugged my house," he admitted. "I went there to talk about my situation, and he already knew. Well, he knew enough that it was obvious he'd heard about it somehow."

"Holy shit. Why would he bug your place?"

"I… suppose that he figured Skyler could be a liability, with her brother-in-law being a DEA agent." Walter sighed. "I'm not happy about it, but he may have actually had my best interests in mind. Watching our back, so to speak," he admitted, leaning over to top up Jesse's coffee cup.

"I told you, man, he's a _criminal_ lawyer," Jesse replied, wrapping his hands around the newly-warmed mug. "But I can't say I blame you for being pissed." He considered a moment. "But he doesn't do the dirty work, yo. He just arranges it."

Walter hummed in agreement through a sip of coffee. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "unless you know of another similarly-minded attorney, I should probably make amends. He may be somewhat…"

"Shady?" Jesse offered.

"Mmm. He may be shady, but he's been pretty invaluable so far." Jesse gave a crooked smile.

"So… what's the plan, Mr. White?"

Walter shrugged. "Offer him a commision from 3 million freshly-laundered dollars. That's probably all of the apology it's going to take."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jesse was jumpy. He was arranging curly fries by order of intricacy, as far as Walter was able to determine, and his knee was bouncing beneath the table. The vibration was about to drive Walter crazy.

"Would you please cut that out?" he finally said with a glare at Jesse. The younger man started, blinking widely as his knee thudded loudly against the bottom of the table.

"Sorry, man. Uh, nerves, I guess."

Walter wasn't in a comforting mood. "That hardly makes you unique here," he retorted. Jesse rolled his eyes without responding. He picked up a chicken leg and looked at it critically before dropping it to return to sorting his fries.

"Gentlemen," a voice greeted them, this time startling them both. "How wonderful to see you again." They glanced up to see Gus standing next to their booth. He gestured toward the kitchen, and they slid out of the booth to follow him. Jesse looked up at his partner as they passed through the back of the restaurant, but Walter's eyes were on one of Gus' associates that slipped out of a back room. The other man fell silently into place behind the three, and as soon as they exited to the back parking lot, unlocked and slid into the driver's seat of a sleek sedan.

"I have something I would very much like to show you," Gus said. He pulled open the passenger door, and indicated that Jesse should sit. "Victor will drive us to your new laboratory. Walter, if you would be so kind as to sit with me in the back, I am eager to discuss the specifics of your contract."

Not pleased at being separated, but wary of overreacting, Jesse allowed himself to be directed into the seat. Victor remained silent, but Jesse noticed that his eyes were constantly moving between him and Walter, assessing the risk to his boss.

Gus sat behind Jesse, Walter slid into the seat behind Victor, and the car pulled away smoothly.

"I feel like I should be wearing a blindfold," Walter remarked a short while later, breaking the silence. Jesse groaned inwardly, forcing himself to stay facing forward instead of whipping around and glaring at his partner. To Jesse's surprise, Gus merely chuckled mildly.

"Nonsense, Walter. You'll need to know how to get there, of course. You too, Mr. Pinkman. I encourage you to set your own hours; come and go as you need to. I ask only that you meet the required quota."

Walter shifted slightly, focusing his attention on Gus. "What quota have you set?" Jesse was paying attention to the streets Victor was taking, and realized they were heading outside of the western edge of Albuquerque. Densely packed houses and businesses gave way to a few large industrial warehouses as they drove further on. Jesse's palms were slippery, and he could feel his heart beating faster.

"With the investments we've made in infrastructure and supplies, we will require two hundred pounds per week," Gus replied calmly. Jesse's eyes bugged out - forty pounds had taken half a barrel of methylamine, and four days.

Walter did some rapid mental calculations. "We're looking at industrial-scale facilities to produce that much distillate." He glanced at Gus. "A reaction vessel of at least one thousand liters, a mixing tank at least half that size. Probably a full-blown furnace for consistent heating…" He trailed off when Gus smiled.

"I don't think you will be disappointed, Walter," he said placidly. "Now, as to the terms of your contract…"

* * *

"You've been very quiet, Jesse," Walter observed as they pulled away from the restaurant some time later. Jesse twisted to face him, incredulous.

"Uh, considering I don't even know what half the shit was down there, I figured that maybe some… discretion, yo, was maybe the way to go." Walter gave him a half-glare.

"If you had paid any attention-"

"… in Chemistry class I'd fucking know blah, blah, blah," Jesse interrupted. "Well, maybe if you'd shown us how to make meth in high school, Mr. White, I'd have paid attention."

"Oh, how grossly negligent on my part. Obviously I should have realized that it was my place to provide you with some illegal vocational training!" Walter retorted. "'Ms. Molina, would you authorize the purchase of some reagents that allow us to synthesize a highly-addictive substance? Even though they're on innumerable watchlists?'" He snorted derisively. "Jesus, Jesse. Do you ever use your brain before you speak?"

"You ever notice that you turn into a sarcastic asshole when you're nervous about something?" Jesse shot back, leaning his head against the passenger window. Walter sighed, and forced himself to count to ten before responding. He lifted his fingers from around the steering wheel in a gesture of surrender.

"That was probably kind of..." he waggled his fingers again, aborting that statement and starting over. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I wasn't really suggesting you teach kids how to cook. It was… like, a figure of speech, man."

Walter tightened his fingers around the steering wheel again. "I know." He sighed. "You're right about me being… tense. Gus is still a bit of an unknown quantity," he interrupted himself and whistled, "What an opportunity, though! But… yes, I… I have some stress. Skyler, obviously, that's a big one." He slowed to a stop, flicking the turn signal on as they waited for a traffic light. Several pulses of the turn signal clicked before he continued.

"You're not a factor in that stress, Jesse," Walter said, turning to face the younger man briefly. "I meant what I said; you're welcome to stick around until you feel ready to go. It certainly doesn't look like I'll be moving back home anytime soon."

The light changed, and Jesse looked over at Walter. "Thanks. Uh, sorry about the 'asshole' thing."

Walter couldn't stop himself from chuckling in response.

* * *

"We're here to see Saul Goodman," Walter said to the receptionist. She stared back with a bored expression, picking up the phone on her desk and pressing a button.

"Yeah, he doesn't want to see you." she replied in a tone that matched her expression.

"Just tell him it's Walter White," he replied. "I don't have an appointment, but I think he'll want to see us anyway."

"After last time, you're lucky I'm not calling the police," she shot back. Walter raised an eyebrow.

"Saul doesn't want the police here anymore than I do." Jesse gave his partner a look. "Look, just tell him that we want to discuss-" He broke off as Jesse walked around the reception desk and pushed open the door to Saul's office.

"Hey! You can't go back there!" she shouted.

As they walked into Saul's office, the lawyer leapt out of his seat. He scrambled behind his chair and fumbled a cellphone out of his pocket. "You can't come in here!" he said shrilly, trying to flip the phone open and dropping it instead.

"So we've been told," Walter said dryly. "We just have a business proposition. I've had some time to cool down since I was here last…"

"Oh, that makes me feel _so_ much better," Saul interjected, squatting slowly to retrieve his phone without taking his eyes off of the intruders. "Alright, but you're," he pointed to Walter and Jesse, "not sitting down yet, and I have a guy on speed dial." He waved the phone.

"If it makes you more comfortable," Walter replied amicably as Jesse watched with amusement.

"Just what did you _do_ to him, yo?" he asked the older man in a low voice. Walter waved him off.

"We're about to make a fair bit of money," Walter began.

Saul's eyes narrowed, but he maintained his defensive posture. "How much money are we talking about? Because, honestly, for all the trouble you've given me? Laundering anything less than a couple hundred thousand for you isn't worth the Xanax it'll take me to get through it. I have my dignity, you know."

"Jesse and I have a short-term, three million dollar contract, with the option to extend it into a longer-term contract…"

Saul's demeanor changed instantly. He flipped the phone closed and sat down in his chair again. "I didn't respect myself all that much anyway!" He looked up at Walter again. "Walt, buddy, take a seat! And, Mr. Pinkman; c'mon over, kid." He pulled out a notepad. "Let's talk laundry, boys."

* * *

"Hey, uh, if it's cool, Mr. White, I kind of wanna to hit a meeting this afternoon," Jesse said as they approached the apartment complex.

"That's… a terrific idea, Jesse. That's good to hear!" He shot a quick glance over at his passenger. "You realize that you're welcome to come and go at the apartment, right? You can go… hang out with your friends, or…" Walter trailed off, seeing Jesse's amused smirk. "Alright, alright. Anyway. You have a key. I'll see you when you get back."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Walter's attempt at a pre-dinner nap was aborted by an insistent knocking. He rolled off of his bed with a groan as he grabbed for his glasses. "Coming!" he shouted, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly before settling the frames over his nose and ears.

Peering through the peephole, he saw Hank, and felt the familiar flood of stress hormones as anxiety began to creep in. His heartbeat increased and his hand, when he grabbed and turned the doorknob, was slippery against the smooth metal. Walter forced a smile onto his face as he pulled the door open. "Hank! What can I do for you?"

Hank looked around the interior of the apartment; habits ingrained by years of caution unconsciously taking over, and then stepped inside. He shot a pitying look at Walter. "Hey, buddy. How're you doing?"

Walter gave a shrug as he shut the door. "As well as can be expected, I guess." Hank nodded.

"Yeah." The other man sighed. "Jesus, Walt. What the hell did you do to piss her off?" Walter gestured widely and opened his mouth to reply, but Hank waved him off. "You got plans?" he asked, looking up and down at Walter. "Didn't mean to wake ya up."

"Uh, no, no plans, really. I was just going to try and fit in a nap; hide from it all for a while."

"Let's get the hell outta here," Hank suggested with a grin. "Get dressed. We'll grab a drink; shoot the shit." After a moment, Walter nodded.

"Sure. That… that sounds great."

* * *

After warming up with a couple of beers and some idle conversation, Hank ordered Walter a glass of whiskey and fixed his gaze on his brother-in-law. "Alright, Walt. Enough pussyfooting around. Just what in the hell is going on with you and Sky?" Hank was tapping his fingers against the side of his beer bottle, peering intently at his companion.

Walter shook his head, taking a long sip of his whiskey. "I really wish I knew, Hank." So the interrogation begins, he thought, taking another drink as he collected his thoughts. "I keep hoping it's something similar to what happened when Junior was born, but..." Walter trailed off with another shake of his head. Hank frowned and leaned closer.

"What happened when Junior was born?" His frown deepened when Walter sighed. "I mean, I know about the birth injury, obviously, but did something happen with Skyler?"

Walter paused, calculating, before continuing. "Her OB said it was just 'baby blues'. A mild case of post-partum depression. Could have been related to the traumatic birth, sure, but we didn't think that was solely it. She wouldn't really talk to me anymore… kind of withdrew. Didn't want to be around anyone but Junior." Hank started to look panicked.

"Jesus. Is there a chance she'd hurt the kids, Walt?"

Walter shook his head emphatically. "No. No! She wouldn't do that. No. And she's not really a danger to herself, either; she mostly took things out on me. She obviously didn't file for divorce back then, but there was a lot more financial uncertainty right after Junior was born."

Hank took a swig of his beer. "Well, that's good, at least," he offered. "Uh, probably not for you," he amended with a sympathetic chuckle.

Walter hummed in agreement around the last sip of his drink and beckoned for another. When the waitress brought him a fresh glass and walked away again, he looked up at Hank dolefully. "I do miss the kids. Holly, especially; I've barely spent any time with her since she was born." He looked back down at his glass before steadily downing the entire drink. "I miss Skyler, too. Put in a good word for me with her, will you? And you can't say a word to her about what I told you – she will absolutely kill me if she knows that you know."

Hank clapped him on the shoulder, and signaled for the waitress again. "'Course, buddy. Don't you worry about that. And you know Marie will plead your case; she can't stand for those kids to be unhappy. Junior's been giving his mom a hell of a time, from what we've seen."

Hank drained the rest of his beer, and then shook his head in disbelief. "'More uncertainty' then, huh? Even with you having cancer, and the school basically letting you go? You need to see an employment lawyer about that, by the way; they can't just decide to stop paying you because you needed time off for treatment."

"FMLA, Hank. They only had to give me twelve weeks," Walter slurred before reaching for his new glass. "Hey - 'FML' is something the kids say, right? 'Fuck my life', right?" He gave a hearty laugh, and raised the glass in a toast. "FML, Hank!"

A few rounds later, most of which found their way into Walter's glass alone, Hank signaled for the check. "It's a school night there, Mel Gibson. I gotta get home before I piss off Marie. One of us in the doghouse is more than enough."

* * *

The rasping of a key missing a lock several times woke Jesse. He climbed off the couch and headed over to the door. Peering through the peephole, he saw Walter standing outside, brushing Hank away as he tried to connect the key with the lock. When Jesse saw Hank walking back to the parking lot, he slid the deadbolt back and pulled the door open, careful to keep himself out of the other man's line of sight.

"Mr. White?" he asked incredulously, reaching out to help steady the older man as he stumbled inside.

"Heeeey, Jesse," Walter replied good-naturedly, bumping into the table at the end of the couch. "Ow."

"Um… do you want me to like, make you some coffee or something?" Jesse asked hesitantly, scratching his head as he stretched his neck side to side. "Cook you something?"

"No… I'm just gonna go to bed," Walter slurred, shuffling clumsily through the dimly-lit apartment. Jesse hurried to his side, wrapping his arm around the older man's waist and helping him to his bed. Walter sat down heavily and tried to lean forward to remove his shoes, but Jesse stopped him, sliding them off of his feet for him.

Walter shrugged his jacket off, and tossed it to the floor. "Thanks, Jesse," he murmured, rolling onto his side on the bed and looking blearily up at the younger man. "I am…"

"Shit-faced?" Jesse offered with a smirk.

"Indeed. Incredibly, indubitably, indelibly inebriated." Walter laughed, which turned into a boozy cough. "Shit-faced," he added when it passed. Jesse reached out and slipped the older man's glasses off, folding them and placing them on the side table.

"G'night, Mr. White," Jesse replied, shaking his head.

"C'mere," Walter mumbled, patting the side of the bed. Jesse sat down warily, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at his former teacher. "Didn't mean to wake you up. You've had trouble sleeping lately." He yawned loudly and patted Jesse's arm. "Why don't you just sleep here?"

"Uh, getting weird, Mr. White," Jesse said, and moved to stand up. Walter smiled at him sadly.

"Sorry. Not trying to be weird. Just concerned."

Something in the older man's expression tugged at Jesse, and he sighed. "Alright, I'll stay until you fall asleep, okay?" He shook his head. "Jesus, man." He leaned back, arranging himself carefully on the narrow mattress so that no part of him was touching the older man. "You know we've gotta cook in the morning, right?"

Walter just yawned in response, this one wide enough that his jaw cracked, and threw an arm over Jesse. Jesse rolled his eyes up at the ceiling, but didn't try to pull away. "Goodnight, Mr. White," he repeated.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, they rode to the lab together, which surprised Jesse on two levels: one, that Walter offered Jesse a ride in the first place, and two, that the older man didn't seem to be suffering for his night out. Jesse did note, however, that Walter didn't turn the radio up very loudly, and ate only toast for breakfast.

Neither man made mention of the fact that Jesse hadn't merely stayed until Walter had fallen asleep. Jesse wasn't sure he was ready to think about why he seemed to find the older man so comforting lately.

It took them about half an hour to get to the laundry facility. There wasn't much conversation during the drive, but the silence was a companionable one. When they arrived, Walter parked and turned to face Jesse. "Well, partner, you ready?" He smiled at the younger man as he pulled his keys from the ignition.

Jesse quirked a half-smile in return, and replied, "Let's do this, Mr. White."

They made it to the hidden entrance without attracting any attention at all; the facility was bustling with trucks incoming and outgoing, and the staff were speaking to one another in rapid-fire Spanish, but no one as much as glanced their way. As soon as they stepped through the steel door of the laboratory itself, their footfalls echoing hollowly on the metallic catwalk grating, they heard an excited shout from below.

"Oh! Hello!"

Jesse's eyes widened, and Walter frowned, but both men walked down the steps cautiously into the main lab space. A smiling, round-faced man stood in a lab apron and boots, holding a beaker of brown liquid carefully in one hand. He rushed over to meet them, thrusting his hand out in front of Walter.

"Mr. White!" he exclaimed, almost giddily. Walter slowly extended his own hand to be enthusiastically pumped up and down by the other man. "Ohh, it is just so good to meet you," the other man gushed. "I have heard so much about you; I feel like I know you already!"

Jesse cocked an eyebrow. "That's funny, yo. We haven't heard dick about you."

"Oh!" The other man dropped Walter's hand suddenly and stepped back with a nervous grin. "I'm Gale, of course. Gale Boetticher. Your new lab assistant!"

Jesse opened his mouth to speak again, but Walter waved in a low, open-handed gesture to stop him. "Nice to meet you, Gale. Uh… You'll have to forgive us for being surprised; we weren't told to expect anyone else in the lab." Gale smiled back at Walter, a blinding beam of near hero worship.

"Mr. Fring thought it might be best to provide you with a trained assistant," Gale said, shooting a quick glance in Jesse's direction. Jesse bristled, and Walter laid his hand on his partner's arm, stopping him again from breaking in. "I have a copy of my curriculum vitae, if you'd like to see it," Gale added, carefully setting his beaker down and hurrying over to a small cluster of lockers in the corner. He rummaged in one of them for a moment and pulled a small sheaf of papers out before rushing back over to where Walter and Jesse stood. "Here you go!" he said, handing it to Walter.

Walter pushed up the bridge of his glasses before glancing down at the pages. He raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "Impressive; UNM, full scholarship…" Walter raised his eyes to Gale, over the rims of his glasses. "You know, I did my own Master's work in…"

"X-ray crystallography!" Gale finished excitedly, flushing with pleasure. "I know! Oh, Mr. White, I have the utmost respect for you. The sample that Mr. Fring provided… how you managed to achieve such high purity…" Gale broke off and shuddered happily. Jesse rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms and exhaled in frustration. "I have so much to learn from you," Gale finished, placing his hands together in front of him, palms together, and giving the slightest of bows to Walter.

Jesse scoffed, unable to stop himself. "Riiiiiiiiight," he broke in. "Um, since you asked, I'm Jesse Pinkman. And, Mr. White and I? We're gonna get to work. You wanna watch and like take notes or something? That's cool," he said, starting to walk over in the direction of the lockers. Gale frowned at him, clearly hurt, but moved to follow.

"What's this?" Walter asked, stopping to peer at an assembly of boiling flasks and glass tubing that was mounted to a workbench. Gale turned back, and beamed again as he rushed to explain.

"This? This is but my humble attempt to create the ideal cup of coffee," he said proudly, gesturing to the glassware. He took an empty beaker and turned a valve, dispensing a few ounces of steaming fluid into the glass. "I would be honored to have you try it," Gale said, offering it to Walter. From across the room, Jesse shook his head and began pulling a hazmat suit over his jeans and t-shirt.

Walter took it, sniffing at the dark liquid before taking a cautious sip. His eyebrows rose, and he gave Gale a nod. "That… that is some very good coffee," he said with admiration.

Gale nearly combusted with glee. Jesse, clad now in a yellow rubber jumpsuit, came over and took the beaker from Walter, sipping at it himself. "Needs sugar," he snarked. Gale took the glass from Jesse and turned to place it carefully back on the counter next to his vacuum distillation assembly.

"Unfortunately, we aren't equipped to synthesize sucrose here," Gale said snappishly over his shoulder. Jesse smiled up at Walter at having irritated the other man, but Walter just frowned at his partner, shaking his head in disappointment. Jesse raised two fingers in a "shoot me" motion as he went over to the equipment rack and retrieved a respirator and work gloves.

"Well," Walter said to Gale, reaching for a jumpsuit, "Let's suit up and get this underway, shall we?"

* * *

Gus was taking a bag of garbage out to the dumpster when he spotted an aging Chrysler parked along the curb. He put the bag in the bin, then straightened his shirt sleeves and approached the car. With a cautious glance up and down the street, he pulled open the door and climbed in the passenger seat.

"They showed up at the lab this morning around 9," the man behind the wheel said. Gus nodded.

"Yes, I noticed that they had arrived. Any difficulties that you observed?"

The other man shook his head. "Nope. The kid doesn't seem to like the guy you hired." He gave a shrug, "But what are you gonna do?"

"Mike, does your risk assessment stand? As far as both Walter and the young man are concerned?"

Mike cocked his head slightly, and made a clicking noise with his tongue. "I told you what I think. The kid's a junkie. He's been to rehab, but…" He shrugged again. "Most junkies don't deviate far from type. But the other guy? Cancer, trouble with the wife – who's cheating on him, by the way," he glanced at his employer. "That guy's a ticking time bomb, Gus."

Gus' expression didn't change from one of dispassionate interest. "At the conclusion of business today, please make sure Victor gives them the first payment. Half a million each today. They'll get the same when we're halfway through, and the final installment at the end of the three months." Mike simply nodded as though he had anticipated the instruction. Gus smiled pleasantly. "Thank you, Mike. I'm sure I will speak to you again soon."

"Yep," the other man replied, nodding his head in farewell. Gus let himself out of the car and walked back in the direction of the restaurant. Mike sighed, then shook his head and turned the key in the ignition.

* * *

"This is… a thing of utter beauty," Gale breathed, staring at the sheet of unbroken methamphetamine resting in the cooling tray. He pulled his respirator off of his head entirely and held it to his chest reverently. "Oh, Mr. White… you aren't a mere chemist; you're an artist."

Walter smiled at the other man's approbation while Jesse ripped off his own respirator and stalked over to the workbench. Finding what he was looking for, he came back to the tray and raised a scraper over his head before slamming the butt of it into the sheet, cracking it. Gale jumped at the sudden movement and noise. Walter gave Jesse a stern look, but didn't say anything.

Ignoring them, Jesse continued to break the sheet until it lay in shards, at which point he flipped the scraper around and pushed the shards into a pile of smaller crystals. "Right, so 'Meth 101' is over, yo? That's how you make a batch of blue." He picked up the tray and placed it on the workbench, grabbing the next one in the stack and attacking it also.

"'Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars'," Gale murmured in a dreamy tone, gazing fawningly at glittering crystals while Walter looked beyond flattered at the admiration.

"Okay, girls," Jesse called over, his tone clearly frustrated. "You mind helping me weigh this bitch, so we can call it a day?"


	6. Chapter 6

Walter waited to ask until they had left the lab, and Gale, behind in the basement. He put the keys in the Aztek's ignition, but sighed and swiveled to face Jesse instead of turning the car on. The sun was setting outside, and most of the laundry staff had left. Gale had stayed behind in order to "review his notes", a prospect that had made Jesse snort in derision as he shrugged back into his hoodie.

"You want to clue me in as to exactly what that was back there?" Walter asked. Jesse raised an eyebrow as he looked back over at his partner.

"Um, that was me not really appreciating bizarro Bill Nye."

Walter frowned in disapproval. "Jesse, he seems perfectly nice. He's obviously more than qualified-"

"Well, no shit, he's basically you, but, like, weirder," Jesse replied. He bit his lip and amended, "No offense, Mr. White. But who brews coffee in lab equipment, right? I mean, that's fucking weird, man."

"Look, I'm sure that Gale is just an example of Gus protecting his investment. It's probably… probably what you yourself suggested the other day: Gale will eventually take over the cooking." Walter shrugged. "We're being well-compensated, Jesse; he clearly knows that we're valuable resources. It's just insurance."

Jesse shook his head. "I don't think so, Mr. White." He gestured up at the awning they were still parked beneath, to the security camera mounted unobtrusively against the eave. "Did you notice the cameras all over the place? They're motion-sensitive, man. They were spinning around, following us. All day long. Dude's probably, like, recording us for playback or some shit like that."

Walter smiled slightly. "Don't be ridiculous, Jesse. Like I said – Gus is simply protecting his investment." He gestured toward the backseat, where two large matching canvas duffels were stashed beneath a moving blanket. "He's literally just handed us a million dollars. If he had something nefarious in mind, he wouldn't have given us a good-faith payment, right?"

Jesse licked his lips, then sighed. "I don't know, man. I got a bad feeling about this."

"It's all going to be fine, Jesse," Walter soothed, reaching over and patting the younger man on the thigh briefly before turning the keys and starting his car. "It's all going to be just fine."

* * *

A few minutes after they hit the main road back into Albuquerque, Walter's phone began to chime. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and flipped it open, glancing at the display. "Cellphones must not work in the lab," he commented with a frown. "Because I have… Hmm. Apparently a lot of missed calls, and several messages." His frown deepened. "I may need to take care of something when we get back." He snapped the phone closed and glanced briefly at Jesse. "Did you have anywhere to go this evening?"

Jesse, checking his own phone out of habit, shook his head. "No, uh, not really." He shot a look at Walter. "But I can totally vacate if you need space, man."

Walter waved his hand to silence Jesse. "No, no, no. That's not it at all. You're my guest, not an inconvenience. I meant that I'll probably be out. Skyler was trying to reach me all day."

"Okay, uh, yeah… I'll probably just chill then. Watch a movie or something."

Walter nodded absently, tapping his fingertips on the steering wheel as he considered. "We need to do something about those," he said, jerking his chin back to indicate the bags in the backseat. "Having that much cash around is just asking for trouble." Jesse nodded.

"Saul's got that big safe… want me to call him while we're on the road? See if he's available to take a deposit?"

Walter sighed, shaking his head ruefully. "'Better call Saul'," he said darkly.

* * *

Saul was out of the office when Jesse called, but more than willing to open the door after they explained their situation. When they pulled in to the strip mall, Walter had pulled out his phone again, and indicated to Jesse to go ahead and take his own bag in. He stood in the parking lot, listening to message after message from Skyler.

"Walt, I need you to call me when you get this. I'm sure you remember the number."

"Walt, I really need to hear from you soon. It's almost the first of the month, and we have a mortgage payment due, along with a few other things that I really need some help taking care of. Please call me as soon as you get this message."

"Walter, this is Skyler. Please do me the courtesy of calling me as soon as you get this message. Unless you've forgotten, you promised that you intended to 'provide for the family', and I'm going to need some assistance with this month's bills."

"Goddamn it, Walter. I don't know what kind of power play you think you're pulling off, but avoiding me isn't going to make me go away. Yes, I told you not to initiate contact, but I'm asking you to return a damn phonecall. I need you to hold up your end of the bargain, and deal with your obligations to our family. If I don't hear from you in the next hour, I'm going to show up at your apartment, and we can have it out in the parking lot if that's what it takes."

Walter checked the timestamp of the last message, and looked down at his wristwatch nervously. Thirty-seven minutes had elapsed between the time she'd left the last message and when he had checked it. He dialed the house phone, hoping to catch her before she made good on her threat. The phone rang four times, and clicked to the answering machine.

"Shit," he muttered, thinking rapidly as he clicked the phone shut and slid it back into his pocket. He grabbed his duffel out of the backseat, unzipped it, pulled two bundles of $5,000 each out, and tucked them into his jacket pocket. He zipped the bag closed again, and slammed the car door shut.

"Saul?" he called out, hurrying into the lawyer's office. Saul looked up and Jesse turned to face him.

"Hey, Walt, old buddy," Saul greeted with a friendly smile, only to grunt in surprise as Walter thrust the duffel bag at him.

"Make sure you keep that separate from Jesse's," Walter instructed. "I took some out; I don't want to short-change him."

"Will do, Maestro," Saul replied, bending to tuck the bag in the safe beneath the false panel behind his desk. "How much of this do you want me to work my magic on?"

"We'll talk about that later," Walter replied distractedly. "I absolutely have to go." He turned to Jesse, adrenaline kicking in as he spotted the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes to go.

Jesse read his anxiety. "Yeah, uh, can I get back to you on what to do with mine, too?" he asked Saul. Saul nodded.

"You're good kid; stop by any time. Door's always open!" he said magnanimously, giving his best billboard smile. Jesse snorted a laugh.

"Let's go, Mr. White," he said, turning to the older man and nodding toward the door. Walter gave an absent nod of his own, and hurried out to the parking lot so quickly that Jesse had to jog to keep up.

* * *

Walter had hoped that he would arrive back at the apartment with time to either get Jesse inside, or send him away in his car before he confronted Skyler, but to his dismay, her Jeep was parked facing the lot entrance. As he slowed to pull into the parking lot, he saw the door open and his estranged wife stepped out.

Jesse saw her too, and turned to look at Walter in a panic. "Do you, uh, want me to like duck down, or something?"

"Did you learn everything you know from watching movies?" Walter replied irritably, mind racing as he tried to come up with a viable way to explain why he would be driving around with Jesse.

"Yo, remember what I said about you turning into a real asshole when you're under pressure?", Jesse shot back, but without any real heat behind his words.

"This is really not the time, Jesse." Walter parked the Aztek a few stalls away from Skyler's vehicle, and inhaled deeply as he shut off the ignition. "Okay. Do you mind… just staying in here, until we're done?" he asked the younger man. "It's not ideal, and I apologize, but…"

Jesse shook his head. "No, but, um, she's coming this way," he replied, shrinking down in his seat a little and pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head.

Walter hurriedly opened his door and exited the car, slamming the door behind him. "Skyler," he greeted her, forcing a smile onto his face to try and combat his nerves.

"What the hell, Walt? I have literally been calling you all day long," she replied, stopping a few steps away from him. He saw her fingers clutching the strap of her purse tight enough that her fingernails were white. "For all I knew, you were dead or dying somewhere. Maybe that's to be expected one of these days, due to the company you're keeping," Skyler added, shaking with anger.

Walter reached out to try and wrap his arm around her, but she shoved him away. "Don't touch me."

"Alright… Okay," he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Look, I'm sorry that I wasn't able to take your calls; I didn't get the messages until just this evening. My new… consulting position is in a subterra-"

"I don't want to hear it, Walt," she interjected. "I don't even know you well enough anymore to know if you're lying or not, so I'm just going to assume you're always lying." She threw her hands up in the air and shook her head. When she spoke again, her tone was tired. "I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the fact that I need money." Skyler gave a cynical laugh. "Oh, the irony, huh? Wasn't that what you said when you jumped down this rabbit hole in the first place?"

Walter pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Oh, Skyler." He looked up at her and shook his head. "Can we just go inside and talk?" His face was pained, and he extended an arm to her again.

She shook her head. "No, Walt, I don't think so. I see you've got your partner in crime over there," she nodded sharply in the direction of the Aztek, and Walter turned in time to see Jesse slink down further in the seat. "I wouldn't want to keep you from anything."

He turned back at her, his expression pleading. "Please, Skyler. I think if you would just give me the opportunity to explain… If I could just find the way to articulate this to you, the right words or, or the right setting… I could make you understand. My intentions were nothing but good."

His impassioned words did nothing to move his wife. "No, Walt. I'm done talking. And I don't give a damn about your 'intentions'. Now, do you have money for me, or not?" Walter shook his head in frustration, but reached into his pocket, pulling out the bundles of money with a trembling hand. He held it out to her, and she came just close enough to grab it, giving it a quick glance before stuffing the bundles into her handbag.

"Jesus, Walt. Not even trying for subtle, huh?" She exhaled hard and spun on her heel.

"Skyler," Walter called out, his voice choked, "Send over the paperwork for the bills. I'll get everything set up so you don't see another one."

"Fine," she said crisply, without turning around. She reached her Jeep and pulled the door open.

"When… when can I see the kids again?" he asked. "I miss them. They shouldn't be deprived of their father."

She looked back at him and narrowed her eyes before slamming her door. Through the open window, she replied, "Then their father should have thought about that first, shouldn't he?" Without another word she started the Jeep, put it into gear, and pulled out of the parking lot, not sparing a glance for Walter as she left.

Walter watched the Jeep leave, his eyes straining to follow the taillights as it sped away from the apartment complex. He was still standing there watching as he heard another door shut several minutes later, and felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Mr. White?" a soft voice asked.

It took Walter a little bit to connect the hand with the voice, and he eventually turned to face Jesse, who was watching him with a sympathetic expression. "Mr. White," Jesse said again, "Let's go in."

Walter nodded after a moment, still stunned from the confrontation. "C'mon," Jesse coaxed, slinging an arm around the older man's shoulders and leading him toward the apartment. Jesse fumbled his own key out of his jeans and unlocked the door.

When they were inside, and Jesse had locked the door again and switched on enough lights for them to see, Walter sat down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands, letting out a shuddering breath. Jesse stood, chewing his lip nervously.

"Oh, god, Skyler," Walter mumbled. Jesse tugged the hood off of his head and moved to sit gingerly next to his partner, hesitantly putting a hand on his back.

"It's okay, Mr. White," Jesse said, feeling helpless. "I'm sorry," he added, leaning into the older man a little to offer his support. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

* * *

Walter excused himself to the bathroom a little while later, and Jesse, realizing that it was nearing nine o'clock, decided he could at least try to make supper for the two of them. If nothing else, he reasoned, it would be a distraction from thinking about how mutually miserable they were. He pulled eggs and sausage out of the fridge, and was beating the eggs with a fork when Walter reappeared.

"Hey, Mr. White," Jesse said, offering a smile. "Um, I hope brinner's okay?"

Walter frowned. "'Brinner'?"

Jesse's smile widened, and he turned back to his eggs. "Yeah, uh, 'breakfast dinner'. 'Brinner'. Like brunch, but, uh… for dinner." He was relieved to hear Walter actually chuckle, and when he glanced back, saw the older man shake his head.

"Ridiculous," Walter replied, but he was smiling. It was a tired smile, Jesse thought, maybe even an exhausted smile, but at least it was a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Jesse hadn't slept well the night before in his makeshift bed on the couch. From the sound of it, his partner had also done a fair amount of tossing and turning, though he acted pleasant enough once they both finally gave up pretending to be asleep. Jesse still wasn't ready to think about why he was so restless unless he was near the older man, so he pushed it out of his mind as he pushed his breakfast around on his plate.

"So, today," Walter began, folding his newspaper and setting it in the middle of the table, "I don't think we need to cook. Unless you want to get the rest of the weeks' quota done early."

Jesse glanced up, considering. "We got, like, two hundred pounds yesterday, right?"

Walter nodded. "Yes, just over two hundred. With his supply of precursor, and that facility, it looks like that will be our standard yield per batch." Walter shook his head briefly, still impressed. "That's half of what Gus wants every week, so we can take a day off if we like."

"I would like to hit a meeting again," Jesse mumbled, looking back down at his plate to ignore Walter's encouraging nod. "And I gotta find something to do with the cash I left with Saul." Jesse looked up at Walter again and shrugged. "Yeah, man. Day off sounds good."

"I might head into the lab, but not to work," Walter mused. "I'd like to see if Gale has any process improvements he'd like to suggest." Jesse's eyebrows flew up. "Not that I'd consider making any changes without your input, Jesse," Walter added quickly. "I don't honestly think he'll find any efficiencies, but it would give me a chance to see if he knows anything we don't about Gus' motivations."

Somewhat mollified, Jesse took another drink of his coffee. "You should see what he knows about the cameras," he said. Walter hummed in agreement.

"We're not going to cook without you, Jesse," Walter said after a moment. "I promise. We're partners; Gale's just an assistant."

"Cool, man," was all that Jesse replied, looking back down at his plate.

* * *

"Hi, uh… my name is Andrea. I was clean, um, for about a year, but I've been using off and on again the last few weeks."

"Hi Andrea," the room chorused in mumbles.

The group leader smiled warmly at Andrea. "Would you like to share why you think you've been using?" he asked gently. Jesse glanced at her as he bit his nails. Mid-twenties, dark hair; a pretty girl, he thought. He felt a pang as Jane's image suddenly flashed in his mind.

After a moment, Andrea spoke again. "My little brother," she said, stopping to clear her throat, "He uh, had a gang initiation thing. Had to shoot a drug dealer." She paused, her expression pained. "He, um, he's only ten years old," she added, looking down at her hands. Tuts of sympathy and disapproval filled the air. Jesse sat up a little straighter, eyes widening. "He rides around on his bike all day," Andrea said softly, still staring at her fingers. "He's just a little kid."

The leader sighed sadly. "That's a difficult thing to have to deal with." The group of people circled around nodded. "Well, Andrea, we're glad you're here. If you want to share again, any time, just speak up." The girl didn't respond.

The meeting wrapped up soon after, with the leader offering with some words of support and inspiration when it became apparent that no one else wanted to share a story. Jesse watched Andrea carefully, and when the meeting was called to a close and she moved to slip out the door, he hopped up to follow her.

"Hey, uh, Andrea, right?" he said, following her outside.

"Yeah?" she replied, confused at his interest.

"I'm Jesse. I, uh, heard what you said in there. Man, that's… that's terrible," he said sincerely.

"Yeah," she said again, pulling her keys out of her pocket and fiddling with the ring.

"Sorry to, like, ambush you," Jesse said hurriedly. "I just… haven't heard of anything like that before. And you seemed really upset, so I was just wondering if you felt like grabbing a cup of coffee or something?" He gave her a tiny smile. "Maybe, uh, talk about something else?"

She looked hesitantly back at Jesse, still playing with her keys. He cocked his head a little, turning on the charm. "I know a great coffee place. Way better than the stuff in there," he offered, quirking a sideways grin at her. "My treat," he added with a wider smile.

Andrea reluctantly returned the smile, and held up her keys. "Okay. A cup of coffee. But you're driving separately."

Jesse winked. "You got it."

* * *

Walter found himself noticing the security cameras as he let himself into the lab. One tucked into the recess of the ceiling above the hidden entrance, one pointed at the steel door into the facility itself, and a multitude of others mounted around the ceiling of the laboratory. He frowned, and then shook his head, dismissing Jesse's concern as mere paranoia.

As he plodded down the steps to the lab, he saw Gale's brown head bobbing in time with music, but couldn't hear anything above the hum of the air filtration system. As he got closer, Walter could see that Gale was wearing earbuds, and was singing along in a soft tenor voice to whatever he was listening to as he paged through a notebook. Walter reached out and tapped the other man on the shoulder.

"Oh!" Gale started, jumping and tugging the buds from his ears. He turned around, and upon seeing Walter, smiled brilliantly. "It's you!"

"Back again," Walter replied, unzipping his jacket as he glanced at the notebook Gale had been looking at. "Notes from our process?"

"Yes, yes," Gale replied, gesturing at the book. "Just reviewing, I suppose," he said, flushing slightly. "I have a bit of a tendency towards perfectionism," Gale said conspiratorially.

"Well, the chemistry must be respected," Walter replied. "It's refreshing to see such dedication."

Gale shook his head. "I can't imagine…" he started, then shook himself. "I hope you don't think it's too forward of me, but I Googled you likecrazy when I found out we were going to be working together, Mr. White. Someone of your caliber…" Gale sighed. "And then, to top it off, you're a humanitarian! You go to work at a public school, earning clearly much less than you're actually worth, just so you can impart your love of chemistry to future generations."

Walter scratched his eyebrow. "Um, yes. Ah, that was the plan." He pointed at the notebook. "So, your notes. Did you have any thoughts on the process? Any questions or suggestions?"

Gale frowned, the expression not looking natural on his friendly features. "Not regarding the process, per se." He sighed, pulling an iPod from his pocket and placing it on the counter next to the notebook, then looking back at Walter with a troubled expression. "Mr. White, I do have some concerns, but I don't want to sully this wonderful place with my doubts. Would you, perhaps, come and share a meal with me? There's a superb little vegan restaurant not that far away."

Walter shrugged after a beat. "Sure, that sounds good. Shall I drive?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Gale replied, beaming again as he folded up his notebook and stuffed it into a canvas satchel resting on the floor. "I rode my bicycle to the lab this morning, so our lunch might be a little delayed if we rode separately." Walter fought to keep his eyes from rolling as Gale crossed to tuck his bag into his locker.

* * *

"So are you, like, from the ABQ?"

"Mmhmm," Andrea replied, ripping open a sugar packet to stir into her coffee. "Born and raised."

"Yo, cool. Me too." Jesse smiled when she looked up again, and she returned it shyly.

"So what do you do? When you're not picking up girls at NA meetings," Andrea added with a wider smile.

Jesse ducked his head in mock shame, cocking it sideways as he replied. "Um, right now I'm mostly in, like, sales." She raised her eyebrows.

"Telemarketing or something else?" Andrea asked.

"Uh, yeah. Phone stuff. You should hear my phone voice, yo." He sat up a little straighter and adopted a serious expression. "'Mr. White, this is Jesse with AT&T. Would you like to save on your monthly long-distance bill?'"

Andrea laughed, shaking her head. "Wow. You probably don't close many."

Jesse pretended to be offended, tossing a sugar packet at her. "Yeah, you're right. I pretty much suck," he said with a smirk.

"So what's your story?" When Jesse looked at her in confusion, she added, "I mean, with NA. Unless you're only hanging out to pick up girls."

"I thought we were going to talk about something else?" he said. She pinned him with a gaze.

"Hey, you heard mine. Fair's fair," Andrea retorted.

"Okay…" Jesse sighed. "Well, um… kind of lots of stuff. Smoked pot since I was in high school, some meth now and then." He looked down at his hands, twisting a plastic stirring rod around his index finger. "But, um, I had a girlfriend. She did heroin, and, uh, kinda got me into it when I was going through some shit. She died next to me in bed. OD'd," Jesse added, looking back up and blinking hard to clear eyes that were suddenly watery. "A… friend of mine got me into rehab, and the counselor I worked with there was like a leader for this NA group, so…"

"I'm so sorry," Andrea said softly when Jesse trailed off. He gave her a tiny smile, then dropped the plastic stick and wrapped his hands around his mug.

"Yeah. You know… one day at a time. Shit like that, right?"

She nodded. "This thing with my brother, Tomás… It's like he's sick or something, you know? Like right now, he's alive, but someday… he won't be there when I come home. It's just hanging over our family. We don't know when we'll lose him."

"He's ten, right?" Andrea nodded again.

"Yeah. We live – Tomás and I – with my abuela. He's a little kid. God, he's barely older than my son."

"You have a kid?" Jesse asked with surprise.

"Yeah." She looked up at him defiantly. "I know I shouldn't be using when I've got Brock to think about, but… It's just all too much sometimes. I don't want Brock following his uncle. I can't think about that."

Jesse felt a tight knot of anxiety blooming in his chest as he thought about the little boys. "You said he shot a dealer?"

Andrea closed her eyes briefly, nodding when she opened them again. "Yeah. He rides his bike around in circles down in some parking lot. They gave him a gun and told him if he shot this guy pushing crystal in their territory, he'd be 'in'. So he just did it." She mimed pulling a trigger with shaking fingers. "Now that he's 'in', there's only one way out, you know?"

"Yeah…" Jesse said softly. "I know." They both stared down into their cups, lost in thought.


	8. Chapter 8

Gale insisted that they not talk about anything potentially unpleasant until after they had eaten. Walter wasn't sure about the explanation he gave about Chinese medicine, and he was equally unsure about the vegan BLT he ordered for lunch. The fake bacon reminded him of the veggie bacon Skyler had tried to convert them to months ago: a memory that was unpleasant for several reasons.

His companion, however, delighted in his chard wraps, and seemed pleased enough to discuss the similarities in their educations while he ate. Walter made do with his coffee. When Gale was finished, he pushed his plate to the side and sighed as he looked sadly at Walter.

"Okay, so I'm just going to throw it out here, Mr. White: I'm afraid that I just don't understand your choice of lab assistant."

Walter reclined in his seat a little, somewhat taken aback. "Is Jesse somehow a problem?"

Gale was quick to shake his head in denial. "Oh, no, not in the sense that he's an obstacle. But… Frankly, if I had to describe the antithesis of Walter White, it would be that young man." He gestured sweepingly with his hands. "You're polished; an expert in your field. A chemist par excellence. He's…" Gale leaned forward and peered at Walter intently. "Is it true he's a high school drop-out?"

"No, actually it isn't. He did finish high school," Walter replied. "Jesse may not have been a stellar student, but that's immaterial. When it comes to cooking," he continued, lowering his voice and leaning forward a little himself, "Jesse is nearly as good as I am."

Off Gale's disbelieving expression, Walter added, "Oh, yes. Jesse may be… a little rough around the edges. But I can tell you this: he's the only person I know that knows my method, inside and out." Walter sat back again and sighed, tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. "I'm afraid we're a package deal, Gale."

"I certainly don't mean to imply I can't work with you both," Gale said quickly, his expression pained. "I am so honored to have the opportunity to work with you, so I just wanted to get my reservations out in the open air so that we could talk them through. I don't want anything to taint our little… happy place." He smiled wistfully. "I truly hope I haven't offended you. It wasn't my intent at all. The furthest thing from my mind, Mr. White."

"No offense taken," Walter replied amicably. "Now, with that out of the way… Any thoughts on our process?"

* * *

Jesse sat in his car, knee jogging up and down as he nervously tapped a foot on the floorboard. He exhaled an explosive, preparatory breath, then opened the door and got out. The cool weight of the newly-acquired pistol tucked into his waistband was emboldening as he slunk casually across the quiet street, to where a boy was turning circles on a bicycle in an empty parking lot. He approached the boy and jerked his chin upward in greeting.

"What up?" Jesse said, glancing around and seeing no one else. The kid returned the nod, but said nothing. "You, uh, know where I can score a teenth?"

The kid looked Jesse over, finally holding his hand out wordlessly. Jesse fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out a couple of bills.

"It's three, man," the kid said. After a second, Jesse pulled out another bill and passed the money to the boy. "Wait here." The kid put his feet back on his pedals and rode to the edge of the parking lot where an older Camaro, paint peeling, slowly pulled up. The kid passed two of Jesse's hundred-dollar bills through the car window and palmed something small. As the car pulled away again, the kid rode back over to Jesse and tossed him a small baggie filled with tiny blue crystals. "Get lost, dude," the kid yelled over his shoulder as he went back to riding in slow circles.

Jesse stuffed the bag in his jacket pocket, and strode quickly back to his car. His breathing was rapid and rough to his own ears as he pulled the door open and climbed in, starting the car and driving away down the street opposite the one the Camaro had headed.

When he was several blocks away, back in a busier, commercial area of town, Jesse pulled over to the curb and parked. He slid the bag out of his pocket and held it up, looking at the crystals in the bag. Tinted a familiar blue, they caught the bright mid-day sun and glittered like jewels inside their plastic container.

Jesse could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and pulled up his contact list. He was about to hit "Send" to call Walter when he remembered that he might be at the lab, so he sent a text message to the older man instead.

call me asap!

* * *

Walter was enjoying the current discussion much more than the previous one. Gale was telling him how he'd set up the lab equipment a few months ago, and how he'd had drawn out floor plan after floor plan before settling on the final arrangement. He opened his mouth to compliment the setup again when his phone chimed.

He gave a polite smile to indicate that Gale should hold his thoughts, and slid the phone out of his jacket pocket. When he saw the message from Jesse, he frowned.

"Need to go?" Gale asked in an understanding tone. "I've kept you here quite a while," he added with a smile.

Walter shut the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. "It seems that way. Having a little – temporary – trouble with the wife. Probably shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Certainly not!" Gale agreed, as he slid out of the booth and pulled his wallet from his pocket when Walter stopped him.

"Let me get that," the older man said with a smile. "It's the least I can do, considering you saved me from another solitary peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

* * *

As soon as Walter was back on the road after dropping Gale off back at the laundry, he pulled his phone out again and dialed Jesse's number. Jesse answered after a single ring, sounding anxious.

"We need to talk, Mr. White," he said in a rush.

Walter frowned. "Jesse, what's wrong?"

"Are you alone?"

"Am I… what? Yes, I'm alone. I just dropped Gale off at the lab. Where are you? What's going on?"

"We need to talk," Jesse repeated.

"Well, I was planning to head back to the apartment," Walter replied, confused, but concerned at the urgency in the younger man's tone. "Can we just talk there?"

Jesse paused for a moment. "No, man. I don't think we should talk there."

"Okay," Walter said slowly. "Uh… what about the Taco Cabeza near the apartment?" He was beginning to get frustrated with Jesse's evasiveness.

"Yeah, yeah. That's good, man. Taco Cabeza. I'll, uh, see you there in a few minutes." Before Walter could respond, Jesse had hung up. Walter closed the phone, frowning at the device before tucking it back into his pocket with a shake of his head.

* * *

When Walter stepped into the restaurant, he could see Jesse sitting in the back, facing the door, with his knee bopping nervously up and down as he chewed on his fingernails. As he approached, Jesse sat up straighter and jammed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Utterly confused, Walter slid into the booth across from the younger man, setting his hands on the table. "Jesse, what on earth is…" He trailed off as Jesse pulled his hand out of his pocket and thrust the small baggie of meth beneath one of Walter's palms. Instinctively, Walter covered it with his own, drawing it back toward him and into his lap.

He gave Jesse an incredulous stare. "Are you using? You're a week out of rehab," he began, fury building as he spoke. Jesse shook his head.

"No. No, man, no I'm not fucking using. When have I had time, yo? You've been with me every night." Jesse shook his head. "But I gotta know - is that ours?" When Walter looked back at him, baffled, Jesse gestured to Walter's lap. "Is that our stuff? Because it sure as hell looks to me like our shit."

"Do we really have to do this here?" Walter asked, the anger replaced with perplexity as he slid the bag across his leg and into the late afternoon sun coming through the window. The color looked right, and the crystal size was consistent… Walter shrugged, meeting Jesse's eyes again and tucking the bag into his own jacket pocket. "Without a mass spectrometer, Jesse, I can't tell you with absolute certainty, but… yes, it looks like our product," he said, still puzzled.

Jesse's expression changed from anxious to furious. "I fucking knew it," he blurted out loudly. A woman at a nearby table turned and glared at him, pointedly telling the children sitting with her to ignore the rude stranger. He lowered his voice a little as he continued, "I fucking knew that Gus is up to something."

"Jesse, what…" Walter cut himself off, closing his eyes briefly and flaring his hands as he collected his thoughts. "Where did this come from? And why are you so upset? Surely you realized that this was going to," he leaned closer and lowered his voice even more, "be marketed somewhere, right?"

The younger man nodded, his knee jogging as he bounced with nervous energy again. "I knew, yeah. What I didn't fucking know is that he was going to have kids pushing it, and offing my guys while they did it."

Walter's eyes widened, and he stood quickly, reaching down and pulling Jesse up abruptly by his jacket. The younger man protested, but Walter pushed him in front of him as he walked toward the door. When they got outside, he gestured at the Aztek and said gruffly, "Get in. We are not having this conversation in the middle of a crowded restaurant, Jesse."

Jesse climbed into the SUV, and turned to face Walter. "Mr. White, what's to stop Gu-"

"Stop." Jesse stared at him incredulously. Walter took a deep breath. "Just… calm down a moment. I need you to start at the beginning, all right?" Jesse sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest momentarily before looking back at his partner and nodding. "Okay. Slowly now."

"You remember Combo, right?" When Walter nodded, Jesse said, "Okay. Combo got shot by a little kid, in a part of town that we'd never sold in before, man." He paused and sighed again. "I went to a meeting today, like I said I was gonna do. There was a girl there, man, who said that her little brother had to shoot a dealer for, like, gang initiation shit, okay? That dealer was Combo."

"How do you know, for certain, that it was the same boy?" Jesse gave him a wide-eyed, disbelieving look, and Walter held up his hands defensively. "Think about this, Jesse. We can't exactly run to Gus with a wild, unsubstantiated claim and expect him to listen."

"It's the same kid, Mr. White. I went to the corner where Combo got shot, found the kid, and I bought that," he nodded toward Walter's pocket, "off him. You said the shit he's selling is the shit we're making? No one else knows that recipe, man. So the dealers that the kid works for have to work for Gus, right? There's no other way that this is on the street without it coming from him."

Walter scrubbed a hand over his goatee, looking upward. As he contemplated Jesse's story, he could hear the younger man breathing rapidly in the passenger seat. "Okay. Okay," Walter repeated, collecting his thoughts. "Let's assume that this is in fact our product. Combo was killed prior to our partnership with Gus, Jesse. It's unfortunate that he died, yes, but Gus wouldn't have known that he was… affiliated with you and I."

"Bullshit!" Jesse exploded. "Combo was selling our blue, man. Gus knows where every ounce of crystal comes from in this town." He met Walter's eyes. "They had a kid do it. A fucking ten year old kid."

Walter's chest constricted briefly at the thought; his mind going immediately to his own children. He took another deep breath, and carefully laid a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Alright. Let's go back to the apartment-" He stopped as Jesse pulled away abruptly and shook his head furiously.

"No fucking way. We are not having this conversation at the apartment. That bitch is probably fucking bugged, man." Walter couldn't suppress an answering eyeroll.

"Jesse, now you're being completely paranoid."

The younger man's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "The guy we're working for killed one of my friends – one of our employees, has dealers usingkids as foot soldiers, has cameras on us when we're at work, and I'm fucking paranoid?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes closed, Walter replied, "Isn't there a device that you can use to detect surveillance equipment?"

"Like I know?" Jesse retorted. "The science is your department."

"Saul would know," Walter said, ignoring the sarcasm. He pulled his phone out of his jacket. "Tell you what - we will ask Saul. Then, we can find somewhere else to stay for the evening, we can talk about this calmly," he emphasized, "and think about what we're going to do next." Jesse didn't respond, so Walter put his hand back on the younger man's shoulder and gave him a little shake. "I need you with me on this," he said warningly. "You're not running off half-cocked and doing something stupid, Jesse."

A few seconds later, Jesse nodded, not meeting Walter's eyes. Walter sighed, but pulled his hand back and flipped his phone open to dial their lawyer.

* * *

"We got a problem, boss," Mike said heavily as he reviewed the screen on the laptop in front of him.

"I'm listening," Gus replied placidly.

"It's the kid. He's been in a part of town he doesn't have any business visiting." Mike had already triple-checked the GPS reports, but he pulled up the readout from the device hidden beneath Jesse's car as he spoke. "I think we're going to get some pushback from his direction soon."

Gus closed his eyes for a moment, careful to keep any hint of irritation out of his voice when he replied. "I assume this is related to the incident that occurred a few months ago."

"Yep," came the dry response.

"I believe I'll leave it up to you to deal with Mr. Pinkman," Gus said after a brief silence. He heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line.

"You know I got boundaries when it comes to kids."

"You misunderstand. Redirect him," Gus elaborated. "See if you can't find another outlet for what might otherwise develop into a problem."

"Alright. That I can do," Mike said. "I'll check in once something changes."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Gus replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse shut off the car and glanced down once again at the small hunk of plastic occupying his passenger seat. Idiot-proof, Saul had said, shrugging in self-deprecation as he'd handed it over to the two men. He'd explained how to sweep Walter's apartment for surveillance devices, and asked that they return the apparatus when they were finished, as he had a habit of sweeping his office weekly.

"You wouldn't believe how many people have absolutely no respect for the idea of attorney/client privilege," he'd tossed out as Jesse and Walter left, walking out to their separate vehicles. They started back to the apartment, but Walter had been redirected by a call from his brother-in-law, offering an opportunity to secretly visit with his daughter.

"Well, bitch, let's see what you can do," Jesse muttered as he grabbed the small black box, tugging his keys out of the ignition and heading for the apartment. The door had barely shut behind him when there was a knock. He jammed the box into his pocket and peered through the peephole.

His heart began to race when he saw who stood on the other side – the man that had cleaned up Jesse's apartment the morning after Jane's death.

The man knocked again, looking impatient, and Jesse could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he gingerly put the chain on the door, then pulled it open and peered around at his visitor.

"Uh, yeah?" he said, tentatively. The man raised an eyebrow. "Yo, Mr. White isn't here…"

"I'm aware," the other man said drily. "Considering I watched you walk up to the door and let yourself in, kid."

Jesse could still feel his pulse pounding. "So… what do you want?"

"Since you're not inclined to let me in," Mike said, "we can talk in the car."

"You want me to get in a car with you?" Jesse returned incredulously.

"That's the idea." Mike shifted, repressing a sigh. "We share an employer, kid. I'm short a guy for an errand. You're an available body."

Jesse blinked back at him, biting a lip nervously. This time, Mike did sigh. Audibly.

"Um, okay. Okay, let me just, uh, take a leak first," Jesse muttered, pushing the door closed. Mike tipped his head back and closed his eyes briefly before opening them to stare at the door again.

Inside, Jesse took the black box out of his pocket and put it on the counter next to the telephone, then tugged his revolver out of his waistband, checking the chambers out of habit. With a click, he spun the wheel into the body, and tucked the gun back into place, pulling his shirt and jacket down to cover the slight bulkiness.

He took the chain off the door with a shaking hand before slipping out through the small gap between the door and frame. Mike gave him a glance, his expression unreadable, then turned on his heel and walked back over toward an aging Chrysler. Jesse locked the door, his fingers still trembling, and hurried to catch up.

"Well, kid, let's get a move on," Mike said, opening the door and sliding in. Jesse hesitated for a moment before following suit. He sat there, barely daring to breathe, waiting for Mike to start the car. The older man just sat, staring at him, until Jesse finally broke.

"What?!" he demanded, still feeling like his heart was thudding against his ribs.

"Seatbelt," Mike returned. "Car doesn't move 'til you fasten your damn seatbelt."

* * *

"Bop!" Walter exclaimed softly, tapping the tip of Holly's nose with his index finger. The baby cooed, giving a toothless, open-mouthed smile. He bent and kissed the top of her head before reaching down to grab the rattle on a nearby table. He glanced at his brother-in-law and shook his head.

"Hank… I don't even know where to begin," he started, only to be cut off by a dismissive gesture.

"Shit, Walt, it's the least I could do." Hank sat watching, turning a bottle of beer in his hands. "Uh, Marie wasn't sure we should have you over – didn't think it was 'supportive' of Sky," he added in an exaggerated whisper, complete with fingerquotes and an eyeroll.

"I heard that!" Marie called out from the kitchen. "I'll have her bottle ready in just a minute, Walt."

"Thank you," Walter responded, giving the baby another kiss and rocking her slightly. "Thank you both," he said quietly, meeting Hank's eyes gratefully.

Marie walked in with a bottle, handing it over to her brother-in-law before sitting next to her husband, folding her legs gracefully beneath her. "Next time, we'll try to get Walt Jr. over here, too. He had plans tonight, and we didn't want to say too much."

"No, I understand. I appreciate that you were willing to do this..."

Hank stood up abruptly. "Don't go getting emotional on us, buddy." Marie gaped at him in disbelief.

"Hank!"

The baby turned to look at her aunt, cooing happily at a new distraction.

"What?" Hank replied, shrugging as he walked toward the kitchen. "Want a beer, Walt?"

* * *

They'd been driving for several minutes when Mike glanced across at Jesse. "Loaded?" The younger man jumped at the sudden break in the silence.

"Um, what?"

Mike sighed, drumming the fingers of one hand on his steering wheel. "Your gun, kid. Is. It. Loaded?" he asked slowly, drawing out each word in a near-drawl.

"My gun?"

Mike braked for a red light, a little harder than was strictly necessary, and shot Jesse a glare. "Yeah. Your gun." At Jesse's reluctant nod, he faced forward again, adding, "Bring a gun along to a job again without telling me, and I'll stick it up your ass."

They drove in silence for long minutes, heading south of Albuquerque. Jesse was still twitchy, and his foot was tapping nervously against the floorboard, but he didn't say anything. Eventually, Mike spoke.

"Aren't you gonna ask where we're going?"

Jesse glanced to his left, biting his lip as he assessed the other man, then shook his head. "Nope," he finally answered. Mike shrugged, and the car continued down the highway.

* * *

Walter bent to press a kiss to the top of Holly's head as he drew a blanket over the sleeping baby. As he stood, looking down at her in the portable crib, Marie gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry to chase you out, Walt," she said softly, putting her hand on his arm briefly.

"No, I really do appreciate the chance to…" he waved vaguely toward Holly as he trailed off. Marie smiled again.

"We'll try to arrange something like this again soon, okay?" Walter felt emotion welling up in his chest, and limited his reply to a grateful nod. "Walt Junior should be done with midterms soon, and he's been spending a lot of time here, too."

"Thanks again," Walter said as he shrugged into his jacket and opened the door.

"Anytime, Walt," Marie replied in a gentle tone before closing the door behind him.

With a sigh, Walter trudged back to his Aztek, eager to leave before estranged wife arrived.

* * *

"Stay here," he'd said. That had been all Mike had said as he exited the car and slammed the door behind him before keying open the trunk to rummage around inside. Jesse could feel the car moving slightly as things were shifted around, and he craned his neck around to see what the other man was doing, before finally unfastening his seatbelt and turning around entirely to watch. He could see just a sliver of motion between the open trunk and the car, and had no idea what Mike might be looking for. He felt his heart rate jump again.

Interminable moments later, Mike stepped away from the trunk, carrying a long-handled shovel, which he used to pry up a dusty board several feet in front of the car. As Jesse watched, incredulous, he removed scoop after scoop of soil, finally reaching into the hole and pulling out a cloth sack which he tossed to the ground near the front of the car. He refilled the hole, and pushed the board back over the newly-disturbed soil before using the edge of the shovel to drag some loose dirt over the top.

He stooped and retrieved the bag, carrying it and the shovel back to the trunk. Jesse pivoted on his seat again to follow the other man, feeling the car wiggle again as Mike stowed the bag and shovel, and then felt the jolt of the trunk slamming shut.

He was still watching, eyes wide, as Mike climbed back into the car and pulled his safety belt down over his shoulder, fastening it with a muted click. He looked up and met Jesse's eyes, raising one eyebrow as he placed his hand on the keys in the ignition.

"Seatbelt, kid."


End file.
